A dark, empty room, the only thing in it is a wooden stool. Moss growing on the walls, darkness creeping into hearts. Inside the room is a shadowy figure. The figure has something in its hands and sits down on the stool. After a few seconds and sparks, the candle is lit, revealing the dark figure to be the Chieftain of Warth and Hatred, Kinwrathi.

"My my, someone clearly didn't think this evening, did they? Ronnie Wilkins tried so hard to be intimidating, he forgot to attempt to feign one thing we all know he lacks.

Oh, what was it again? It starts with an I, just like intimidation...

Ah, yes! I got it now!

Intelligence.

I will go through and utterly debunk this trainwreck of a statement right before the very eyes of all who are watching.

Pay attention Ronnie, it may be highly doubtful but you might learn something."

That’s what you’ve got you insignificant little puke?

"That isn't even close to all I've got, in fact, I was just warming up Mr. Wilkins. If you had a single working brain cell, you'd know that."

You’re going to call me bland?

"Yes, I am. Because you are bland, Wilkins. You are as entertaining to watch and to listen to as watching grass grow. You are so vanilla that I don't think you are even trying anymore. Doesn't matter, because even if you were trying...

...I'm still better than you."

Tell me you’re going to make me eat my own eyeballs?

"That I did."

Make me do it now pussy.

"Why? I have no motivation to right now, because I don't follow your schedule. I don't abide by your terms. I do things when I want to, not whenever some brain dead vermin who has too much testosterone than they could possibly ever need decides when I do something.

A true genius we have here, I'm surprised you aren't in Mensa."

“Deerrrrrrrr, I’ll wait til our match, Venus isn’t in the 13th house.”

"I think I broke him! Do we have enough time to find a replacement? Really, it's not like they need one, they were already at a distinct disadvantage when he was chosen for their team anyway."

Fuck you, I’ll make you floss with the hair around my asshole that my shit rubs against on its way to the toilet before you make me eat my own eyeballs.

"Remember kids, a good insult and threat comes from referencing your feces! Seriously, you humans are inane to think that using feces in an insult or threat is a good idea, when it makes you look like a fucking idiot!

Oh wait, this is Ronnie Wilkins. Carry on, Ronnie."

You whine and cry about me not mentioning your supposed “insult”?

"Because pointing out a distinct lack of addressing a point I touched upon in a statement equals whining and/or crying. Especially when you bring it up in this statement. I fail to see your logic, likely because there is none. Not out of the ordinary for you."

Why the fuck would I?

"You did, see one of the first things you said this statement."

You bring nothing…NOTHING to the table but some weird fetish/cosplay alien fan fiction.

"Thinking with your dick like your average hormone filled teenager, remember when you called me immature? Those were the times, am I right?"

Listen up and listen up well, I am going to beat the fucking shit out of you. I am going to have you so confused and overwhelmed that you won’t know whether you should cry over your shattered teeth or your fractured skull.

"Boring. I mean seriously? You're going to beat the fucking shit out of me? I am so fucking scared man! You're just so intimidating! Look, you're beneath the dirt and you speak of beating me at anything other than a cure for insomnia challenge? Don't make me laugh, kiddo."

Bringing up my wife and kids?

"Yes. Problem officer? All is fair in love and war, and your words imply you're ready for war. Whether or not you're worthy of being tested in battle is a different thing entirely."

Way to reach for low hanging fruit you fucking sack of shit.

"Did I ever claim to be someone on the moral high ground? No, I didn't so this little jab is pointless. Just like your entire statement, and your career."

I’m boring?

"You are. I'm nodding off just thinking about you."

Mother fucker, you are only present in this match so there can be a quick fall early to keep the audience’s attention while the rest of the big boys get ready to do some smashing.

"If that were to be true, you forgot to mention where you will be. You aren't one of the big boys Ronnie. As much as you like to think you are, you're just thrown in there to be a handicap for your team, like Cobra would've been for us had the match not become a five vs. five deal. I'm surprised you weren't pulled to be honest, but you probably can't even count to three so I guess there goes any chance of you being a backup referee."

You are going to get hurt you fucking weak ass excuse for a wrestler, and it’s going to be me who does it. I want…nah, I COMMAND you to think about that for the next 18 hours. When you step in that ring with me one thing will happen, you’ll be in my world and I’ll drag you to deep water to drown. When we get there I’m gonna grab hold of your arm or your neck or your knee and I’m not going to let you tap out. I’m going to make you fucking beg me to let go of that useless appendage.

"Oh do go on, I find your empty threats so fucking amusing! it amazes me that one man can be this stupid as to not realize his fate was sealed the second he was put against me. But by all means, go ahead and call me a weak excuse for a wrestler, and think you can make me tap. It's obvious you live in a fantasy world anyway. Also, way to point out the obvious, claiming you'll hurt me. Of course you mean you will, it is your statement after all! No, it's gonna be Flynn or Soldier or de Sade who'll hurt me and you're telling me in advance! Wait a minute, those three actually stand a chance of affecting me! You should just go back to eating paste in the corner like a good little special needs child."

I’m going to make you realize that whatever extremity I have it’s mine, that I fucking own you.

"The only thing you own is your own stupidity, which despite being vast is not something to brag about, Ronnie. Better luck next time."

Eventually your pleading and whining will annoy me and I’ll let go, allowing you to escape whatever hell I create for you.

"The only whining I hear is from you bitching about what I said and trying to hide how hurt you actually are by trying to be all macho and threatening. Likewise, the only pleading that's occurring is you pleading with me to care about anything you say and take it seriously. I'm kind of getting annoyed at you in a way, going on a long winded speech but saying absolutely nothing."

But remember.

"The fifth of November?"

It will be on my fucking terms. You’ve fucked up kiddo. You kicked the Hornet’s nest.

"No. I kicked the tire on the shortbus you ride everywhere and popped it, leaving you and your friends all mad because you can't go to the petting zoo now."

I hope they have a good hospital on Gilligan’s Island…or wherever fruitcakes like you come from.

"You're not coming back with me, so why do you care about a good hospital in Neuroseir? Oh wait a minute, you were trying to threaten me! How cute, but again so sad. You are not scary Ron.

No one fears you.

You aren't taken seriously.

Well ladies and gentlemen, it's official!

I struck a nerve with this one...

...And made him lose his mind.

See you in our match Ronnie.

It'll be fun to prove how right I am tonight."